


Cisuan

by annastronaut



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Coming of Age, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Tattoos, getting tattoos, tw: needles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 02:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18327134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annastronaut/pseuds/annastronaut
Summary: Just because Jacen Syndulla didn’t have lekku didn’t mean that he couldn’t get the coming of age tattoos, the Cisuan, that were traditional for his family clan.





	Cisuan

  


  


  


Just because Jacen Syndulla didn’t have lekku didn’t mean that he couldn’t get the coming of age tattoos, the  _ Cisuan _ , that were traditional for his family clan.   


  


Even though he was only half Twi’lek, his family and other Twi’leki people had in general accepted him into their fold. Sure, when he was younger he was occasionally made fun of for the splotchy tan-green of his skin and his lack of lekku, but for the most part he was left alone about the issue. How much of this could be attributed to being the grandson of the Liberator of Ryloth and the son of war heroes, though, he couldn’t say.

  


The day Jacen turned seventeen he was finally of age and able to get his tattoos. When he woke up that morning he didn’t feel like any more of a man than he had the night before—just a great sense of excitement buzzing under his skin. When he got out of bed he stretched out his long arms and long legs, trying to find something new,  _ something different _ about himself and instead finding that everything physically was the same as well. He had the same green freckles, same green hair, and the same blue-green eyes he’d always had. 

  


As he pulled on his clothes, he tripped over the legs of his pants and had to hold on to the side of his bed in the Ghost to catch his balance. Wincing, he held his breath, waiting for the inevitable.

  


“Jace, are you awake yet?” He heard his mom shout. “I have breakfast ready if you want to come on out.”

  


“Coming, Mom!” he called back, pulling on a shirt.

  


Breakfast was, as always, terrible. Unless it was something pre-packaged or ration bars, his mom couldn’t cook to save her life. “Your father was always the better cook,” she’d sometimes say with a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. Sometimes when this happened Hera’s face would glaze over like she was lost in a memory. Today she seemed fully present when she put a bowl of Dantooine cereal in front of him. “There’s space waffles too, for when you finish up.”

  


“Why so much food?” Jacen asked, curious and wondering just how badly those waffles were burned.

  


“You’re going to need as much food in you as you can get before we get started. More food means more pain tolerance for later,” Hera said, digging into her own breakfast.

  


After a few minutes of silence, Jacen was feeling brave. “So Mom, can I fly us down today?” he asked, his mouth full of food.

  


“No, love, I’m afraid not. We’re taking the Ghost down today, not the Phantom,” Hera replied.

  


After a minute of chewing, Jacen finally swallowed and smiled at his mom, one corner of his mouth lifting higher in a way that he knew reminded her of his dad and often helped him get his way. “It’s alright,” he waved his hand, “I can just fly the Ghost down there.”   
  


Hera hit Jacen with a hard stare. They’d had this discussion every week for at least the past year. “You know you can’t fly the Ghost yet, not until you’ve got some flight hours under your belt at the academy. For now the Phantom III is more than enough for you to fly.”

  


“Mom, I’m a man now,” he half whined. “Shouldn’t I be allowed to fly something other than the Phantom and some old X-Wings?” Rolling his eyes he added, “Besides, I’m literally a few weeks away from starting at the academy.”

  


“Well, then you’re literally a few weeks away from starting to get those flight hours in.” Hera rolled her eyes back, smiling at her son. “Now eat up. You’re going to need it for this afternoon.”

  


Later, after the dishes from breakfast were washed and put away, Hera and Jacen made their way to the cockpit as the Ghost was leaving hyperspace. There, Chopper warbled a greeting at them. Jacen wasn’t surprised that Chopper was making himself scarce today. He was starting to slow down a little bit in his old age, his gears always grinding no matter how often they were oiled or maintenanced. He was pretty sure Hera was in denial about the whole thing. She would baby the droid just as much as always, and every time somebody brought up his age she would change the subject. On top of Chopper’s age, every time the three of them went down to Ryloth to visit the rebuilt Syndulla home the droid got strangely quiet and a little funny.

  


Jacen made his way to the co-pilot’s seat feeling so full he was uncomfortable. Every time he had thought he was done with breakfast Hera had forced him to eat a little more. “You’ll thank me later,” she said, handing him a jogan flavored sports drink as he sat down and Ryloth and her moons came into view. He doubted the drink would help that much, but accepted it anyway.

  


The instant the Ghost entered Ryloth’s atmosphere, Jacen could feel the sunlight that poured in through the cockpit window on his skin. He always loved the warm and dry climate of the planet, having spent summers visiting his grandfather and the rest of his extended family when he was younger and the war was finally over. To him, Ryloth felt like another member of the family. From where he sat he could already see the landing area outside of the Syndulla home, and on it, waving, his Grandfather Cham.

  


As soon as the ship fully settled down, Jacen jumped out of his chair, running for the back ramp as best he could with such a full stomach. He heard Hera from the cockpit laughing at his eagerness to get off the ship.

  


“Grandson!” Cham shouted out over the noise of the Ghost powering down. “How does it feel to be a man now!”

  


Jacen scrunched his face, raising a hand to block the sunlight from his eyes. “It feels good, I guess. I don’t really feel any different, though.”

  


Cham laughed. “You’ll feel it soon enough. As soon as you get your  _ Cisuan _ you’ll feel like a brand new person.” He smiled. “Now, are you ready for the hike?”

  


“Hike?”

  


“What, did you think you’d get your  _ Cisuan _ at the house? No, no. To the artist we go.” Cham clapped Jacen on the back, leading him away from the landing zone. “Don’t worry, it’s not far, and it won’t get too hot for us. Today is a beautiful day.”

  


More than an hour later Jacen realized that his grandfather was a kriffing liar. His legs hurt from walking around the canyons and surrounding area. It was hot, and he was sweating in places he didn’t know existed before. He regretted wearing long sleeves, but didn’t want to roll the sleeves up for fear of getting a sunburn. Jacen was trying to stay positive, but he was starting to feel a little impatient and grumpy. 

  


Hera and Cham were several paces ahead. The hike and the heat didn’t seem to bother them in the slightest. In fact, his mother was still in her full flight suit—gloves and all. Not for the first time in his life Jacen wondered if tolerance for the heat was a Twi’leki thing that he had missed out on by being half-human. 

  


Suddenly, Cham and Hera came to a stop and turned waiting for Jacen to cross the distance between them. Noticing no difference between where they stood and the rest of the tall and rocky landscape, he was confused.

  


“Where are we?” he asked, panting a little.

  


“We’re here,” Hera said, ducking into an opening in the rock that he hadn’t noticed before.

  


“Well, almost.” Cham chuckled, passing her up and walking down into the opening. 

  


Once Jacen caught up to them he quickly realized that they were in a cave, and a wonderfully cool one at that. Glad that he was finally out of the heat, he felt himself start to feel a little better and his mood begin to improve. 

  


Walking on a downhill slope, he started to feel his shirt stick to his tacky and sweaty skin in the cool air.

  


"How much longer—" But before he could even finish his question, Jacen saw a chamber up ahead. Walking in he saw it was a large room with a very high ceiling. Holes in the top allowed sunlight to stream into the chamber, the rays bright against the darkness of the cave. Off to the side a small fire was lit, giving the room a deep smoky smell. On one side of the fire was a woven mat with rocks surrounding it. On the other side a small woman sat by the fire, tending to it. She had pale yellow skin, papery and wrinkled with age, and a smile that deeply crinkled the corners of her eyes.

  


“Welcome,” she said, standing up and walking over to the small group. Looking straight at Jacen, she said, “I am Shakka. Are you ready to get your  _ Cisuan _ today?” 

  


Jacen felt a chill down his spine and started to feel his blood rush. This was it, the moment he’d been anticipating for years. He stood up straight to his full height. “Yes. I am,” he said, sounding a little more nervous and a lot less manly than he would have liked.

  


“Okay then. Let’s get started,” Shakka said, grabbing his arm she led him over to the small mat by the fire and motioned for him to sit down. She smiled and handed him a flask. “Drink.”

  


Sitting down on the mat, Jacen took a large drink from the flask, its contents burning his throat as it went down. Trying not to cough and failing, he asked, “What’s in there?”

  


“It’s Rylothean Yurp,” said Shakka. “To help with the pain, and well, you’re old enough to enjoy it now.”

  


Secretly, Jacen thought that the stuff could be used to strip paint off the side of a ship, but he didn’t say anything. He just nodded and took another long drink.

  


“Now,” Shakka smiled, “lay down and we can get started. Are you sure about what you want for your  _ Cisuan _ ?”

  


Nodding, he took one last drink of the Rylothean Yurp before taking his shirt off and adjusting his position as he was told. 

  


As Jacen lay there next to the fire, his mother and grandfather came and sat on the large rocks by him. Shakka was bent over a small box, shuffling around its contents, eventually pulling out something that looked like a stimpak. 

  


“This might be a little cold,” the  artist  said, spraying a liquid onto both of his arms that smelled a lot like alcohol. He jumped. “It is just to sanitize the area and get it ready for your tattoos,” she added.

  


“This will hurt,” Hera said quietly, “It feels a lot like a tooka scratch, but it doesn’t end for a very long time.” At this, both Cham and Shakka nodded. 

  


“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want you to feel pressured into it.” Hera’s brows were furrowed, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to.”

  


“I’m fine. Really, Mom.” Jacen looked her square in the eyes. “I want to do this. I’m ready.”

Cham clapped his hands together and grabbing Hera by the shoulders said, “Okay, he’s ready! You’ve asked him enough, daughter. He’s a man now, and it’s time for him to let it show to the rest of the world.”

  


Everyone laughed, and Shakka took out a marker and started drawing on both of his arms. Green concentric circles ran down both of his arms with lines jutting out like constellations- just like his mother’s lekku. The design stretched from the top of his shoulders down to his wrists. 

  


Once the design was drawn, Shakka brought out something that looked a lot like a pen that had a motor hooked to it. It looked ancient. Digging further into her box she pulled out a package that contained a fresh needle and attached it to the machine. Dipping the needle end of the pen into a pot of ink beside her the same green as his hair, she looked at Jacen and said, “This is going to hurt,” before turning on the motor with a loud buzz.

  


Shaking a little bit with nerves and a little bit with excitement, Jacen winced when the needle first touched his skin. When the needle started to move, however, Jacen instantly realized what everyone was talking about when they said it felt like a scratch. Clenching his hands into fists and forcing himself to relax, he focused on the sound of the needle and the feeling of adrenaline rising in his body.

  


When Shakka got to his elbow, Jacen very quickly realized that he was not at all ready for this level of pain, no matter how much he claimed he was. As it got more intense he could feel the needle vibrating down in his bones. His skin felt raw and alive and like it was on fire all at once. It felt like someone had exposed a nerve and was trying to dig their way in. Determined not to break, he gritted his teeth and was embarrassed when tears started to pool in the corners of his eyes. Luckily the worst of it quickly passed and the pain lessened up as Shakka moved further down his arm.

  


After all the time and care had been put into tattooing his right arm, the left arm didn’t seem to take very long at all in comparison. The elbow hurt, again, but somehow it didn’t bother him as much as the first. Instead of just feeling like there was a warm buzzing just in his left arm, he felt his whole body alive and vibrating. 

  


Long after the sun streaming in through the ceiling had turned to twilight and the stars had made themselves visible, the tattooing stopped. Shakka rubbed an ointment onto Jacen’s arms, helping to ease the raw pain he felt. 

  


Hera walked over to him, extending a hand to help him stand up. “It’s over, you can sit up now, love.”

  


Smiling, Jacen shook his arms and legs out, stiff from being in one position for so long. “Well, how does it look?” Even though he felt slightly lightheaded he bounced on the balls of his feet, the adrenaline pumping through his body making it impossible for him to stand still. 

  


Hera was quiet for a few moments, standing at arms length away to look up at him. “You’re a man now,” she laughed, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “I’m so proud of you, son.” She pulled him in for a hug, and even though it stung and hurt his arms, he let her hold onto him anyway. 

  


Wrapping his arms around her, Jacen looked over her head towards his grandfather who gave a nod and a smile in their direction. “It looks good,” Cham said. “Your  _ Cisuan _ suit you.”

  


Shakka walked over, and put a hand on Jacen’s shoulder, pulling him away from his mother. “It looks like you need some more of this.” She said, handing over the flask of Rylothean Yurp. 

  


Parched, Jacen took several deep drinks of the liquor, wincing as it burned but drinking anyway. Feeling the liquid warm his body, he sighed and sat down between Hera and Cham. 

  


The firelight crackled, and with sore arms and a lightly spinning head Jacen looked around at his mother and grandfather. Sure, the group here today was just a small portion of family, but he felt whole and accepted. Feeling the special connection to his culture, to his family, made him proud of his Rylothean roots. Jacen thought at that moment that he could conquer anything that may come his way. He felt like a man.

  


“Hey, Jace.” Hera yawned and rested her head on his sore shoulder. 

  


“Yeah, Mom?”

  


“Want to be the one to fly us home tomorrow?”

  


He smiled. “Yeah, Mom. I’d really like that.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I have this crazy idea that Jacen has tattoos like his mother's. It's been floating around in my head for almost a year now and has been chewing away at me ever since. 
> 
> Big thanks to Veritascara for beta reading this- you're the bomb.com and helped me put this together. Big thanks also to the wonderful folks on discord for being my cheerleader all throughout the writing process.
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://annastronaut.tumblr.com) mostly ranting about Star Wars and my day job.


End file.
